Final Battle
by athermiac
Summary: A oneshot about Harry and Voldermort's final battle. Featuring Ron and Hermione. Implied RW and HG pairing. Large cliffhanger. Hermione's POV.


**Comments:**This is a ONESHOT that just popped into my head one night and I jumped out of bed and wrote it down. There is no real backstory, except that it takes place in the Entrance Hall at Hogwarts. You can ask questions, but I'll either make something up or not know. Hope you enjoy!  
**Disclaimer:**I do not own Harry Potter nor any characters related to it. They all belong to my goddess, JK Rowling.

**Der Anfang Vom Ende**

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Harry griped the sweaty handle of his wand hard in his right hand; the broken fragments of what were his glasses in his left. He squinted to the large blurry object some four feet in front of him: Lord Voldermort. The white marble of the Entrance Hall wall and floor gleamed against the dull look in Harry's near-blind eyes. Voldermort was smirking, his thin lipless mouth turned up at the corners and his red eyes, those red eyes held some hidden mystery and knowing that was beyond me.

My gaze went from Voldermort, back to Harry, whose face was set. His eyes were narrowed (in either determination or a squint, I couldn't tell) and the muscles in his jaw were clenched tight. I didn't know if he knew what he was going to do, but he wanted to look like he did.

Ron and I stood, tattered and bloody against the far wall, helplessly watching the scene play out before us. Ron's breathing was ragged next to me; I still felt his arm around my waist from when he grabbed me and pulled me to the side when the first spell had been fired.

I kept my eyes locked on Harry, trying to read his mind and figure out his next action. There was no sound, no movement from anyone. Finally Harry's lips parted and he spoke in a dry, hollow voice that didn't seem to be coming from him at all.

"You'll never kill me," he said and I felt tears springing to my eyes. Voldermort's reaction was how I expected. He smiled wider, laughter bursting from those fiery eyes of his.

"Oh, I won't?" he asked, his voice sinister, yet playfully disbelieving. "You may have destroyed all of my soul but the one part I hold in my very chest. But we'll just have to see about me killing you." His right arm rose with his wand. I felt Ron tighten around me. Harry couldn't see Voldermort's wand come up; he was too far away and Harry's vision was too poor without his glasses on. Ron knew it too because he shouted; "Harry!" His voice cracked with worry and anxiety.

Quick as my sight could follow it, a bright green light flashed and Ron was on the ground beside me. As he fell, his hand grasped for mine, but his fingernails only scrabbled the back of my hand. I fell instantly to my knees beside him. He wasn't dead, I was sure of that instantly, but he had a pained look on his face. Decrendium. We had learned about it in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the Death Eaters' favorite spell because it had the same appearance as Avada Kedavera. The victim would appear dead, but only be rendered in a painful unconscious slumber until the full effect of the spell took over. If Ron didn't get help soon, he would die.

I looked up. Voldermort's eyes were back on Harry, but Harry's were on us. With one fleeting look back at his enemy, he sprinted over, giving me a questioning look since he could hardly see Ron's condition.

"He's not dead," I said frantically, keeping a close eye on Voldermort in case he tried anything behind Harry's back. "He used Decrendium."

"Bring him to the safe place then," he told me. "Apparate there and get him help."

"I'm not leaving you here!"

"Just like two Gryffindors," Voldermort said softly. Harry stood and whipped around, staring daggers at Voldermort. Behind him, I took Ron's hand, which was steadily growing colder. "Always putting their friends before themselves," Voldermort continued. "Too bad, Harry, that it isn't really in your nature. You're only playing hero. Remember, you would have done well in Slytherin."

I had no idea why Voldermort emphasized these words, but apparently, Harry did. He had gone milk-white.

"How did you—?"

"We're connected Harry, remember?" Voldermort said in a sort of singsong voice. "We have been from day one."

I saw Harry's mouth twitch. Voldermort seemed pleased by his reaction. As he opened his mouth to speak again, a thought tore through my brain: why is he talking?

"Ever since that wretched night seventeen years ago, I've seen flashes of your miserable life. Every once and a while, I experienced the same strong emotion you did, heard the same words you heard. It wasn't very pleasant, oh no. But it gave me more strength."

"Why are you explaining all this to him?" I spat, scared out of my wits, but brave as well. Harry turned around quickly and gave me a frightened look, but I pressed on. "Why are you talking, not fighting?"

The same green light came at me, and I was gone.


End file.
